Page 40 of Dark Embrace

“I must insist that you accompany us to the station, where we can finish this discussion in a more appropriate venue,” said the dark-haired constable as he exchanged a quick look with hiscompanion.

Sarah clasped her hands before her to stop them trembling. She had heard about the interrogation rooms beneath the offices at Bow Street, heard about fists and cudgels and the manner in which suspects wereencouragedto answer questions and admit their guilt. Anyone who lived in this parish had heard the horrible tales. But these were not Bow Street Runners. They were constables of the Metropolitan Force. Would their methods be different? The thought that they might carry out such brutality on Killian, the image of him beaten and bloodied, madeherill.

One of the constables grabbedKillian’sarm.

Behind her, the hubbub in the ward grew, closing in on her, a cacophony ofsound.

She took a step back, thinking that she must flee. She turned and saw Mr. Simon’s face and Mr. Franks’, the apprentices’, the patients’. Elinor stood to one side, her expression pinched with worry. Matron stood a few feet away, having come along the corridor and heard the last of the constable’s words. Her lips were pressed in a taut line. She looked angry and disapproving, but when she stepped forward and said, “You err, sirs. I do not believe Mr. Thayne capable of such vile acts,” no one paid heranymind.

Killian glanced down at the constable’s hand on his arm, then lifted his gaze toSarah.

They were going to do this. They were going to drag Killian away and see him charged with murder. Murders. Fivemurders.

Before she could ponder ramifications and consequences, Sarah stepped forward and said, “He was with me. I am your witness. He was with me—” her chin came up, and she finished firmly “—allnight.”

Killian swung his gaze to her, pewter and ice, and she read his shock that she spoke in hisdefense.

“He was with me,” she said again, louder, firmer. “So he could not have killed anyone because he accompanied me to my lodging and remained there with me from ten o’clock last nightuntildawn.”

Gasps and murmurs followed her words, and thensilence.

Censure and condemnation hung in the air like a foulsmell.

Of course, she had known it would be so even before she spoke. In saving Killian Thayne, she had doomed herself. A woman of loose moral character was not a woman to be respected and offered the opportunity of advancement on thewards.

Once before, the day Mr. Scully died, she had stepped forward in Killian’s defense. That day, he had saved her from herself. But today, she was not so lucky, for so speedily had she forged into battle, there had not been a moment for her protector to standbeforeher.

“You assert that Mr. Thayne was with you the entire night?” the constabledemanded.

“I do,” shereplied.

“Theentirenight?” The second constable stepped between her and Killian, using his physical presence to sever any influence that proximity might have over heranswer.

She held his gaze and waited for uncertainty to creep to the fore on little rat feet. In truth, she couldnotswear that Killian had sat in the chair every moment of the night, guarding her door while she slept. He had been gone when she awakened, and he could have left at any time after she closed her door andlockedit.

She looked back over her shoulder to the dead man on the bed. This time, the killer had ripped open the victim’s throat. And still, there was not a drop of bloodspilled.

I hear your blood rushing in your veins, Sarah.Killian’s words echoed in her thoughts. How could he possibly hear her blood? How? And why had he said such a thing at all?I am not likeothermen.

His own softly spoken admissions were rife with macabrepossibilities.

With a shudder, she looked away from the corpse, her gaze lifting to meet Killian’s over the constable’sshoulder.

The silence hung heavy, like a thick,cloyingfog.

“Miss Lowell,” Killian said, his attention focused on her, and she knew he meant to say more, to sacrifice himself for her honor, to ensure that her name not be besmirched by her assertion that he had remained at her side the nightthrough.

“Killian Thayne never left my side during the hours between ten o’clock and dawn,” she said again, her tone steady and sure. Sheknewit for the truth. He had told her he would guard her and keep her safe, and he had meant it. Whatever beast lurked beneath Killian’s skin, it was not a beast that had done thismurder.

She turned her attention fully on the dark-haired constable and stared him down, though her legs trembled beneath her skirt, and her pulse pounded so heavy and fast it made her temples throb. She must find a way to make these men understand that they were looking for their monster in the wrongplace.

“He is not your killer, regardless of what Mr. Simon believes he saw. In fact, Mr. Simon—” she turned her head toward the man in question and found him watching her with narrow-eyed rage “—I believe you said that you saw the patient alive some time close to midnight, a full two hours after Mr. Thayne left King’s College.Withme.”

She knew what they thought. That she had lain with Killian. That she had allowed him liberties of a basenature.

She almost laughed. If she was to be painted with that scarlet brush, she wished she had at least done something todeserveit.

Killian inclined his head, a spare movement, almost as spare as the tiny smile he offered her. He had not expected her defense of him. But he appreciated it.Appreciatedher.